Hetalia Magic Trio: Raised From Magic
by DenNorRusCanHongIce
Summary: You know the Magic Trio, right? England, Norway, and Romania? The Brows, the Troll, and the Vampire? But do you know them? Really know them? How they met? How they got their magic? How they were raised by mystical creatures? Do you? Well, I'm here to tell you their story, of how they were raised from magic.
1. Chapter 1

England opened his eyes to see the plain white ceiling of his small room. He turned onto his side, curling up into a ball to provide the warmth that his thin blanket was unable to provide.

However, no matter how much he willed his eyes to close, the sun shining through his window was sending him the message that no, he couldn't sleep anymore. Sighing, the small nation sat up and yawned, brushing the shaggy blonde locks out of his hair, sliding out of the cot he was sleeping in.

England opened his green eyes and he scanned the bedroom, looking for a certain something- He found the silver hair brush laying on the small wooden chest along with his black cape.

He picked up the brush and ran it through his hair, attempting to brush it into neatness, however, like any other day, it remained as untidy as ever. Scowling, he placed the brush back down onto the wooden chest and pulled on his cape, exiting his small room and outside.

Outside, the grass was green, and the sun was shining down, however the trees were leafless and a chilly breeze was in the air. It was autumn, and already the cold was taking over.

England sat down in the grass and stared at the various creatures; Birds fluttering around, a butterfly resting on a nearby bush, and the occasional scampering squirrel.

Suddenly, a familiar, heavily accented voice called,

"Are you daydreaming again, Arthur?"

England scowled and turned to see a slightly older French nation walking over to him, his shoulder-length hair moving gently with the direction of the wind.

"No, I'm not," England shot back, "And it's 'England' to you!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" France smirked and waved his hand in a careless way, "I just want to know why you spend so much time staring off into space when you could be doing something else! Something like, I don't know, brushing your hair?"

"Jerk!" England scowled. France laughed and turned away, chuckling to himself. England gave a small pout and said,

"Besides, it's your fault I daydream!"

"Excuse moi?" France asked curiously, turning to face the English nation, "What did you say?"

"I said it was your fault! You were the one that always told me those bloody stories about stupid fairies and whatnot!" England pouted, crossing his arms. France laughed and said,

"I remember back then you enjoyed them. You actually used to be CUTE. But times change."

"Take that back!" England huffed. "Take that back right now!"

"Hahaha! No way!" France chuckled, and raced away, laughing loudly. Annoyed, England scowled and stood up, intending to walk into the forest like he always did when upset.

On entering the forest, he began whistling quietly, to see if the birds would hear the tune and relay it, but none did. After a few minutes he stopped whispering, and sighed.

That's when he heard it; A small cough to the left of him. England's head jerked that direction, his eyebrows raised as his eyes searched the area for the cause of the noise. Another cough was heard, followed by the sound of rustling bushes.

England stepped closer to the bushes curiously, and parted the branches, peering over them to see nothing but a few footprints in the moist dirt.

Frowning at this discovery, England jumped over the small bushes and followed the trail of large footprints, which led him all the way to a small clearing.

There, in the middle of the clearing, was a small tree stump, and sitting there, on the tree stump, was a thick black book, it's pages looking yellowed.

He crept closer to it and saw that the title was in some sort of ancient runes, but it seemed interesting, however. He then noticed a note sticking out of the front page, and pulled it out slowly.

It was a letter, written in English, and addressed to him. Curious, he opened the letter and read the short sentences:

TO BROTHER.

THIS WAS ONCE MINE. TAKE CARE OF IT.

-S

Frowning at the hastily scrawled words, England turned the parchment over, expecting to see more writing on the back, but wasn't surprised to see none.

He had no idea where that book came from, but he was going to keep it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I had actually discontinued and deleted this story on the original site it was posted on, and then I came here and saw how many follows and favorites it had gotten, and I was like, "*sigh* I'm going to have to continue this, aren't I?" Not really hyped on the inspiration as I was a month ago, so I hope the chapters aren't as sucky as they probably are going to be...**

**Ciao!**

**Also, I am sorry if there are any historical inaccuracies. I know nothing of English or Norwegian history. Duh, I obviously know Romanian, because I live in Romania, but whatevs, bro.**

**There is some sort of Salem witch burning type of reference here, which happened years before Romania was formed (however I think there was a lawsuit filed in 1878, so haha, funny coincidence) but I do not believe that any sort of hangings or burning occurred for anybody that practiced magic in Romania, as magic has always been a sort of welcome thing, but let's just pretend, ja?**

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Romania had always been a strange child, even by nation's standards. He never really wanted to play with the other children, and instead, wanted to read about folklore and ancient magic spells in languages that had been long forgotten.

His caretakers always knew something was rather off about him, but they never questioned the matter- All nations were unique in their own way.

So it was their greatest surprise when one of the ladies tried to force him into taking a bath when suddenly, the lady had been turned into a bullfrog.

This certainly frightened everybody else. Except Romania, it had seemed. No, he had stood, butt-naked next to the large, wooden tub of boiled water, laughing his head off. He seemed to find it very _humorous_ despite the other's fear.

"Is it witchcraft?" They whispered in frightened voices, "What strange powers does this child posses?" 

At this time, it was a transition period in history- People had gone from loving magic and believing in it to fearing it and it's powerful, and hanged and burned everybody who was a user of it. But the ladies of the castle did not want to burn the child- He was their own nation, their home after all, and was young, considering he had been found only a little less than three hundred years before and had finally been formed into an official country only three years before, in 1878.

But none of them could entirely be sure it was the child that had preformed the magic. It could have been a simple curse on the lady's life, and who said it was the child's doing, anyways? He might be innocent.

However, innocent had never been a word to use when describing Romania- He was young, and he loved pranks and tricks and scaring the ladies of the castle by placing worms in their food and creeping up on them as they did work.

Innocent? Please.

The second incident was what made the ladies of the castle get rid of him.

He was playing out front when a younger, newer maid came outside.

"Vlad! Vlad, come inside, it's about to rain!" 

"Nope!" The nation laughed, running around happily, chasing something the maid could not see.

_Oh my lord, the child is delusional! _

The maid was on her last thin strip of patience, and she surged forward, hands reaching out to grab the child and force him indoors. This was her big mistake. There was a flash of light just as two ladies entered, balancing laundry in their arms, just in time to see the maid get turned into a bat. The bat screeched before flapping away angrily.

The next thing Romania knew, he was walking far, far away from the castle, frowning as rain pounded down onto his head. Well, this sucked.

He guessed he would have to make the best of it, but how could they all just kick him out like that? Didn't they know he was a little kid and needed their care? His first thought was to go visit his friend Bulgaria, and he had a new little brother he had yet to meet, but before he could act on either of these things, a fairy friend of his raced towards him on her legs, forgetting momentarily she could fly.

"Ro-ma-ni-a!" She chanted. Romania raised an eyebrow at her and said,

"Yes?" 

"Come here! Come here!" She finally took flight and Romania chased after her, until they reached a small cave in which she flew inside, tittering happily.

"Um...What am I doing here?" Romania asked, looking at the millions of eyes of the fairies blinking down at him.

"We know of your situation. We can take care of you, if you want!" One fairy chirped. After a moment of thinking, Romania nodded, smiling.

"That sounds great!"

**~OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~**

***brutally murders self due to shortness and suckiness of chapter***


End file.
